


Steal Me From Myself

by TazWren



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Dark Rey (Star Wars), Dark!Rey, Dominance, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forcebond? Forcebond!, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Inexperienced use of the Force, Inspired by Art, Loss of Virginity, Mild Painplay, Rey beats Ben Solo's ass, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo Gifts Project, Reynal if you squint, Sex, Smuggler Ben Solo, Smut, SwoloFic, Vaginal Fingering, Virgin Rey (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 18:45:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18036809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TazWren/pseuds/TazWren
Summary: Smuggler Ben Solo tangles with the wrong person when he tries to put one over on the mysterious woman with a blazing red saber. Until she tangles with him 😎Canon-divergent fic inspired by a piece of art, for the Reylo Gifts Project.





	Steal Me From Myself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fahrennheit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fahrennheit/gifts).



> Gift fic for this beautiful art prompt by [Fahrennheit](http://fahrennheit.tumblr.com/post/176995916879/you-owe-me-something-solo-request-for)
> 
>  

 

Ben Solo had long learnt to trust his instincts. After all, one did not survive as as a smuggler and purveyor of items of questionable origins, to buyers of even more questionable morality, by ignoring what your senses told you. And right now, they were telling him that he was being watched, and not in a friendly manner.

Turning to lean back against the bar, his heel hooked into the base of the stool next to him, Ben raised the tumbler of Corellian whiskey to his lips, his dark eyes lazily scanning the crowd as he did. To the casual observer, he would have looked like a man people-watching as he wound down after a long day of whatever it was he did. Folks in the Outer Rim didn't much care about what your source of income was, so long as you had the credits to pay for what you wanted.

Failing to identify the source of the scrutiny, just by his eyes alone, Ben tamped the flicker of annoyance he felt at needing to rely on that hidden ability he'd rather he never have to think about. However, his sensibilities would need to wait their turn while his survival instincts made the most of all and every tool at their disposal. Continuing to slowly sip at the whiskey, Ben used the movement to draw a deep breath and center himself before letting the tendrils of his awareness unfurl and extend from himself, flicking out to taste the very air around him.

Layered over sight, sound, and touch, Ben could now also sense the energies of the crowd he lounged at the edge of, wild corkscrews of light, some bright, some dim and some so dark and throbbing with menace, he felt his senses skitter past them after a quick touch. As he shied away from one such cluster, not wanting to touch it more than was necessary to sense if there was intent in his direction, Ben suddenly felt pulled towards a throbbing spot deep in the shadows under the stairs that wrapped up the far corner of the room, leading to the mezzanine of rooms above.

Almost as though compelled to do so, Ben felt himself drawing closer and closer to the steady pulse that felt like the crimson beating of a heart. He could feel his own heartbeat start to synchronise with the throb of that phantom pulse, feel it beat at the pads of his fingers where they rested against the glass of the tumbler, feel it ripple in light, concentric circles across the surface of the whiskey. With a gasp, Ben tore his awareness free, reeling it back in a rapid, graceless manner, intent only to returning to the safety of himself.

As the last tendrils curled up within him, he thought he felt the edge of another's awareness stroke fleetingly against his, the touch as light as a feather, and yet, for some reason, it was as though the weight of a hand had rested against his throat for a millisecond. Yet, Ben did not let anything, of the burst of panic that touch had elicited, show as he slowly rested the now-empty glass on the counter behind him and flicked a finger at the barkeep.

As the amber liquid refilled the tumbler, Ben half turned to smile his thanks, letting his eyes crinkle as he did, signaling what would look like genuine enjoyment to anyone observing him. What they wouldn't see was Ben's quick glance at the rooms above them, and the quick crook of his fingers hidden by the now-full glass. They would only see the half-nod the silver-skinned barkeep gave, his own fingers flicking rapidly in response, below the level of the counter and invisible to anyone who wasn't standing right next to Ben and watching closely. Having received the confirmation he wanted, Ben remained lounging against the bar as he seemingly savoured his drink, fingers periodically tapping in time to the music from the band.

Ben knew that people with his ability were few and far between, and almost solely concentrated in the inner worlds. His own unorthodox combination of ability and occupation was not one that was found outside his family. So to feel someone else who could do what he did, ride the Force surrounding all living beings, in this far-flung corner of the galaxy, keyed him up to a level of preternatural awareness. He wasn't interested in who they were or what they were here for. Ben only cared that they seemed to have eyes on him for some reason. And he didn't think that reason was one he wanted to discover.

It was only when the prickling of his skin ceased, letting him take his first relaxed breath in over thirty minutes, that Ben tossed some credits on the counter and pushed away, letting himself weave a little as he threaded his way through the crowd. He let his smile widen and slip, as he passed a knot of female Chiss and tossed a cocky salute at them. Turning slightly to seemingly make eye contact with one of them, something Ben was careful not to actually do, he winked and canted his head towards the stairs. The casual observer would have noted what looked like a tall, good-looking, mildly-inebriated human male trying to proposition one of the azure-hued Chiss, for an evening of potentially eye-opening activity. Again, they would not have observed the flickering of the eyelid on the stocky male standing behind them, his stony gaze fixed in a direction away from the young Johnny.

His backup assured, for his second mate knew the room that Ben always had access to at the Takodana tavern, the availability of which had been confirmed by the barkeep during their brief liquor-aided exchange, Ben made his way towards the stairs. Swaying a little, he let himself stumble and reach a hand out to grab the edge of a riser, his eyes quickly flitting through the gloom under the stairs. Empty. The space had been evacuated, the person or thing that that been observing him no longer there. Straightening, Ben made his slow way up the stairs, holding onto the bannisters as he did, letting his awareness awaken again and scent the air around him.

Nothing. Whoever it was had completely disappeared, leaving no trace of self behind. Still, he did not let himself relax his alertness. Not even as he worked his way to the end of the hallway of rooms, to the one with the window overlooking the only approach and exit from the tavern. Not until he palmed the entry to the room open, his biometrics having been keyed into it some years ago. Solo senior had passed on all his secrets to his son, introducing him to Maz Kanata who owned the tavern.

Ben could still feel his father slapping him on the back, as he proudly announced that “Junior's taking over the family business, Maz, I want you to watch his back like you've done mine all these years.”

He could still feel that odd mix of pride and embarrassment, at Han's cocky attitude towards the wizened being who slowly looked him up and down before saying wryly, “At least he looks like a Solo. We'll see what the boy is capable of.” Well, the boy had gone on to build a reputation for being a bigger daredevil and risk-taker than even Han Solo. Provided there was enough payment being fronted to make it worthwhile.

He'd expanded the crew of one that Han had always worked with, giving Chewie the backup he needed in the form of the taciturn Baze and adding an astromech. It was beyond Ben how his father had managed in all his years to keep things from falling apart on the Falcon, a Corellian freighter won off of a slick gambler who hadn't been slick enough for Han Solo. Now, with BB9E and Baze, Ben and Chewie could focus on what they did best - flying and lying - and be sure they wouldn't be surprised by mech failures mid-jump to hyperspeed.

Slipping into the room that Maz held for the Solo crew, Ben quickly scanned the darkness ahead of him and found it to be empty. As the door shut behind him, Ben leaned against it and closed his eyes, finally relaxing and letting his hold on the Force ease. Reaching out to the side, for the switches he knew were on the panel next to the door, Ben froze - his fingers had encountered what felt like a fabric of a stiffly quilted tabard, curving over a soft breast underneath. Before he could speak or move, Ben found himself in an iron grip, being yanked to the side and shoved against the wall with a slim arm thrust against his throat

The darkness of the room was rend by a crackling red light as what looked like a hissing lightsaber was ignited not two centimeters from his face. Ben knew not to move, not to breathe, when that angry light spat at the air in front of him. He'd seen men be cutdown like butter by lightsabers far more elegant than this one. He let his eyes move past the malevolent blade to look at the wielder and found he could not breathe as he took in the deeply fringed, bottomless eyes, badly illuminated by the angry red light, set in what looked like the face of an angel, her dark hair swept up behind her.

As Ben let his eyes unwittingly wander over her face, his mysterious attacker glared at him, having to still look up into his face despite her not inconsiderable height. The arm at his throat pressed harder, making him choke, a reaction he tried to arrest not wanting to get anywhere near the blade. To his consternation she angled it so that the tip was now pointing at his throat as she eased her arm back a fraction.

In a voice that would, at any other time have seemed honeyed, but was currently throbbing with menace, she asked bafflingly, “Where is it, you smuggling scum? Where have you hidden what you stole from my master?”

_What?_

 

**

 

Ben Solo considered the options in front of him. One, he could try to wriggle his way out from under the tip of a spitting lightsaber, and probably get spitted himself in the process. Two, he could try to smooth talk his way into being let go. He didn't think the woman holding him against the wall would go for smooth talking though. So, he was left with option three.

“Lady, I have no idea what in Maker's name you're talking about,” he croaked, leaning as far back as the wall behind him would allow, “I've never stolen anything from anyone.”

Then he quickly spoke, seeing his current antagonist narrow her eyes dangerously and shift her grip on the saber. He'd originally assumed it was just a saber, but as his eyes adjusted in the ominous red light, he realized it was a shorter blade set in a longer hilt. Almost like it was one end of a staff.

“I mean it! We buy and sell things. Never steal!” Ben tried to infuse his voice with as much sincerity as possible, even letting a small tendril of his awareness reach for the Force as he did. He'd never attempted Suggestion, but now seemed like a good time to try.

For a moment, it appeared to work. Then, a cast of confusion came over her face before being ripped away in a snarl. The woman stepped back and grabbed at the air in front of her, and Ben felt an answering tightening around his throat, choking the oxygen out of him.

“You piece of scum! You tried to Force Suggest _me_?! Do you know who I am?” She hissed as she forced Ben up the wall till his boot-heels cleared the floor.

Ben rapidly drummed his heels against the panelled wall - spots were dancing in front of his eyes and he could feel sound starting to muffle as the darkness crept in. In a fit of desperation, he let his mind surge towards hers, grabbing for the red tangle of light, sliding along it. Ben had no idea what he was doing, only that he needed to breathe. As his energy wrapped around hers, tightening as though he was the one doing the holding and not her, he plunged into the heart of her energy. Ben felt a shudder run through the crimson light that was her. A few seconds later, he fell in a heap on the floor, gasping as he drew air into tortured lungs.

“What did you do?” she growled at him

Ben was roughly turned over, before she straddled him, levelling the staff at his neck. Not having any clue what she was on about now, and certainly not having the breath to waste, he just shook his head weakly, pawing at the involuntary tears streaming from his eyes.

He could feel her frustration rolling off of her in waves, at his lack of response. She didn't really want to hurt this big hulk of a man, even if he was being stupid - he did have pretty eyes.

Ben froze, as that thought wove through his head. As _her_ thought wove through his head. He lowered his hand and raised incredulous eyes to her face. She was looking down at him with disquiet written all over her features, the wavering red of the blade gilding them like firelight. The weight of her as it settled on his midriff, pressing down on him, was almost enough to make him forget what he'd heard. Sensed. Kriff, he had no idea what to call it. However, he knew enough to not to let on that he _did_ hear something. Han Solo hadn't raised a fool. Perhaps it was time to let Han guide the conversation, such as it were.

Ben let a slow smile grow on his face, flicking his eyes over her form, lingering on her lips and the swell under the black tabard she wore, before resting on where their hips were joined.

“Angel, I haven't even _started_ doing anything, and you're already climbing all over me.”

Ben wasn't quite sure what reaction he expected to that, but it wasn't for her to cock her head at him with a puzzling look, before leaning back with a considering hum. She deactivated the saber staff, but still held it at the ready, as she propped her hand on his thigh behind her and frowned at him, looking for all the world like she was trying to solve a puzzle. As her eyes took their time roving over his face, his broad chest where the buttons of his shirt were straining against the muscles bunched up underneath, Ben felt a flicker of interest that he knew wasn't his own. Though, if he was being honest, her warm weight across his body and that slim hand resting on his leg, were making some neighboring parts blink the sleep out of their  eyes and take notice. Kriff, he didn't need a hard-on now of all times!

Wrestling his attention back, Ben was just in time to pay attention to what the woman was  saying.

“Are you normally this cocky, or are you making a special effort for me?”

Ben couldn't help the snort that escaped, “Lady, I have no kriffin’ clue who you are, or what you want. And as cozy as this is, the floor's getting a tad hard under me. Wanna maybe move?” He raised a brow at her in polite enquiry.

She blinked and bent forward to peer into his eyes, the movement curving her ass over his groin and not going unnoticed by his traitorous nether regions. At the same time, Ben felt a pressure in his skull, one that wiped away all thoughts of arousal as it felt like someone was riffling through his mind. Girding himself, Ben pushed back, slamming the metaphorical doors on the intruder. Her. He glared up at her, a sheen of sweat breaking out over his brow at the effort of keeping those doors closed.

Abruptly the pressure eased, and a surprised laugh spilled from her lips, an amused smile twisting them. 

“You know I can take whatever I want,” she declared in a low, throaty voice. Then, sobering, she continued, “First things first, you stole from Snoke, and I'm here to recover what you took.”

And with that she blew past the untrained barriers Ben was struggling to hold against her. With a gasp, his head dropped back on the floor as the woman, he now knew to be one of Snoke's pack of enforcers, shredded his mental defences. Then, almost as soon as the intrusion began it was over, and she had levered herself off of him. She stood, staring down at Ben, with a look of perplexion that she quickly masked when she saw him staring back at her.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I haven't stolen anything?” He gritted out, past teeth that had yet to unclench.

“I know.”

“...what?” Ben couldn't help blinking in confusion at the abrupt volte-face. Seeing nothing further coming from her, he slowly picked himself up off the floor, swaying as he did. This time, it was no act. He felt like a herd of bantha had stampeded through his head, an aftereffect of the brusque ingress he'd just been subjected to.

Ignoring the woman, who had now begun to pace, her staff held tightly against her in a grip he could see was loose enough to react in a blink, Ben settled down on the edge of the bed and pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to shove the pain out of his head.

He started when he felt his hands being pulled down and cool fingers placed at his temples. Ben looked wordlessly up at her expressionless face. Then as he felt relief trickle through him, leeching the pain away, he searched her eyes - they had darkened, but were unreadable in the mask she wore.

“Why?” He couldn't help asking, huskily. Why was she healing him? After having been the one to violate him in the first place?

Instead of answering him, she dropped her hands and frowned down at him. Since she didn't bother stepping back either, Ben was forced to keep his head tilted back to maintain eye contact. Usually the one to be looking over the other, he found himself vaguely discomfited at the turn of events. Even if the woman's flip-flopping behaviour wasn't enough to unsettle him. Ben Solo was not often caught off his guard and this evening he had not once found his footing with her. And she appeared nowhere near done.

“What do you know about the T-70 booster engine?” She asked, crossing her arms as she looked down her nose at him. The action caused the swell of her chest, albeit hidden under the thick tabard, to pillow up right in his line of sight. Against his better judgement, Ben's mouth ran dry as his mind unwittingly remembered the feel of her straddling him, steel wrapped in softness.

Realising that he was staring, Ben jerked his eyes back up, just in time to catch a glimmer in hers before it was tamped down. As she made a moue of impatience, her words finally dropped with resounding clarity.

_T-70? Why the hell was Snoke after X-Wing engines?_

Ben was no fighter or politician, but he knew, _just knew_ , what she was asking him about had to be something that was critical to the galaxy-wide struggle between the First Order and the New Resistance. This was not about his personal connection to the engine. _Was it?_

“Who's asking?” Ben countered, cocking an eyebrow.

Her eyes hardened in response, obviously not liking that he wasn't falling over himself to give her what she wanted. The idea of him trying to disobey her was oddly… exciting.

_What the…? That hadn't been him!_

Again, Ben did not let on that he'd heard or felt something of her thoughts. It didn't stop him responding to them, though, and the same edge of excitement he sensed started to wind through him.

_Maker, what had he got himself into?_

He poured everything he had into maintaining a blank facade, both externally as well as internally, just in case she decided to probe his mind again. Ben's preparing against being boarded proved to be for nothing though - she hooked a finger in the top of his shirt and yanked him close, leaning down till she was right in his face.

“Mistress of the Knights of Ren.” She intoned, a layer of menace ringing through her voice.

_Kriff._

_Kira Ren._

She was no mere enforcer. She was the leader of the elite, the closest to a Sith Lord Ben Solo was ever going to get. Not that it was any particular ambition of his to encounter the breed. Somehow, he'd never imagined what a Knight of Ren would look like. And his wildest imagination would not have painted this dark angel, hair pulled back in an intricate trio of buns, hazel eyes that would have looked artless if not for their depths, and soft lips gracing a wide mouth that he somehow yearned to feel on his skin. He already knew the strength her lithe body held, and had felt the touch of the Force wielded by her. A sobering thought that should have sent dread throbbing through him. However, it seemed to serve only to make something else throb.

Offense had to be the best defence - Ben couldn't let her see how much she affected him.

“Really?” He drawled, priding himself on how steady, even amused, his voice was, “Mistress to all of them? Must keep you busy.”

Again, she surprised him. A throaty laugh burst out, her breath puffing across his face, and she grinned.

“So much spunk, Solo.”

_Of course she knew who he was. Why would she not._

Her eyes grew heavy-lidded and they flicked down to his lips. Ben couldn't help his tongue darting out to wet them, the scrutiny making him all sorts of worked up. He could not fathom why he was reacting so much to her. If he didn't know better, he would almost imagine she was manipulating him with the Force. Except he _knew_ with a surprising certainty that this was not something artificial. If anything, he seemed to affect her just as much.

“It makes me want to indulge myself,” she said, musingly, tilting her head to the side as she raked her gaze over his face. He knew there was no way she would miss either the flush rising up from his neck, or the corresponding shortening of his breath.

“Perhaps I will.”

With that, she pulled sharply at the shirt she still had her finger hooked in, and jerked the buttons open. Ben's jaw dropped at her action, but before he could say a word, she tipped his chin up with a finger, and closed the distance between them, stopping with her lips a hair’s breadth from his.

When her hand stroked down his neck to brush over his pectorals, Ben's eyes slipped shut, the breath shuddering out of him at the contact. She pushed at the open edges of the shirt and the jacket over them, and when he made no move, she suddenly clawed her hands, her nails digging into his flesh.

Hissing he opened his eyes to see a smile twisting her lips.

“Off. Take it all off.” Her voice was amused, pleasant even, and at odds with the way her fingers still clutched at him.

Ben found himself moving to obey her, stripping out of the jacket and shirt in a swift move. Glancing at her to see that he was doing what she wanted, Ben quickly dropped his hands to the waistband of his trousers when she gave him a slow nod.

“Slowly,” she admonished, “I want to enjoy this.”

Ben drew a deep breath, attempting to control the irrational fire that was licking at him, arousal flowing as though in his very veins. He could feel a corresponding feeling throb through her as well - how, Ben had no idea. However, the way her eyes darkened, as his chest expanded, sent a sense of pride sparking through him. He made that happen. She liked what she saw. And Ben knew, with no little vanity, that he was a fine specimen of a man.

Slowly, drawing the motion out, he unfastened the rest of his clothes and stepped out of them, leaving just his briefs on. Ben waited with bated breath, watching as she devoured him with her eyes, feeling himself harden under her heated scrutiny. At the sight of him tenting his brief, she jerked her chin up, nostrils flaring. Ben could feel her wrestling for control, when the only image in her head was taking him in hand. The thought of that, of her hand wrapped around his length, made him drop his head back with a groan as all the blood rushed south.

_Maker, what was she doing to him?_

Ben had never been so on fire in anticipation of another's touch before. He could feel the very air stirring as she stepped closer, circling him like she was inspecting him, looking over the stallion before buying him. Ben must have been letting his shields slip, for she laughed again. A bright tinkle that was completely at odds with the overt menace she projected.

_Kriff, what he wouldn't give to keep her laughing._

Her hand came up to stroke over his arm, across his back, feather down his spine, then skim over the edge of his briefs as she rounded him and paused just behind his left shoulder. His every sense was focused on where her fingers were touching him, absently stroking back and forth in a lazy pattern. Before Ben could give voice to the frustration building in him, she spoke.

“I don't need to buy you, Solo, you'll be mine soon enough.”

Turning, he grasped her by the arms, pulling her hard up against his body. Which proved to be entirely the wrong thing to do, as he went flying the next moment to crash on top of the bed.

As Ben gaped up at her from where he lay, she strolled forward, arm still outstretched from her use of the Force. Crooking her fingers she tightened her phantom hold around his throat, not strong enough to completely choke him, but just enough to make him strain against it.

“This isn't going to go the way you think it is, Solo. I'm in charge here. And _you_ haven't answered my question yet.”

Loosening her hold, so Ben could speak, she let the tendrils of the Force trail down his torso.

“I already told you, I _didn’t_ steal anything. I don't know what you're looking for!” Ben began, his voice rising before choking off as her grip closed around his groin, cupping his balls.

“I already know you didn't steal it. You _do_ , however, know what that engine is, don't you?” She emphasized the deceptively soft question with a squeeze that left Ben seeing stars. He could appreciate that she had the power to rip his junk right off if she chose to, and she was just _toying_ with him. That didn't really help with the pleasure-pain coursing through him though.

Panting, Ben dropped his glazed eyes to her fingers before looking back up again. “Please,” he croaked, “I can't help you. I have no connections with the Resistance.”

Considering his answer, she put her head on the side, before shaking her head, “And yet you know that this has to do with the Resistance. When will you stop trying to lie to me, Solo?”

This time, there was no pleasure, just pain as the phantom fingers gripped him in a steel vice.

Bellowing his pain, Ben arched off the bed, lashing out with his own tenuous hold on the Force, wrapping his metaphoric arms around her crimson energies and trying to shake her.

With a sigh she released him, a sense of regret colouring her.

“I don't want to hurt you, I don't really enjoy having to do that. Why are you making this so hard?”

Ben felt the bed dip as she rested her knee on it, leaning over to place a hand on him, soothing him with her healing touch where she had just inflicted pain.

Stretching out next to him, she propped her head up against her hand, and gently turned his face to her, taking in his disheveled, wrecked visage. Softly, she stroked her hand over his cheek, cupping his face as her thumb rubbed circles near the edge of his mouth.

“I mean it, I don't want to have to hurt you, but I cannot go back with more questions than answers.” Her eyes were no longer unreadable, and Ben could feel that she was being sincere.

She frowned into the distance before she continued glancing down at him, her face serious, “Nothing of the intelligence pointing to you is accurate. And there is no mention of your force sensitivity. I need answers. Otherwise I cannot protect you.”

_What?_

Ben reached up to grab her hand that had stilled against his face.

“Why would you protect me?” he asked, prompting her to glance down at him and away again. Her cheeks coloured faintly, the first involuntary physical expression she had allowed.

“I… don't really know. Except you aren't the culprit I was told you were. Which leads me to believe there is something bigger at play here.” She turned to him again, “You can sense me, can't you? It's evident you were reading me. Which has never happened before.”

Ben blinked at that.

“Can't force users do that?”

She smirked, “ _You_ aren't a Force user, whereas _I_ am a highly trained one. And no, not the way your energies connect with mine, slipping right through. This is something else.”

Sobering, she lifted her hand to stroke the hair back off his face. “Help me, help you.” Quiet. No demands. 

Ben had never personally been in a situation where weighing right and wrong against _business_ had ever won over. No profits meant no time to waste. Life and death decisions had always been immediate, concerning only the safety of his skin, and that of his crew's. _This,_ this was something else all together. He knew that the Resistance needed every advantage against the First Order, the insidious new militaristic avatar of a defeated Empire. And this advantage could mean a world of difference for countless beings.

However, looking into her eyes, hearing her words and feeling her sincerity, Ben found himself wanting to tell her. She was right, he could read her, and he could see there was no duplicity there. She did genuinely want to protect him. And she was not happy about being used as a pawn. Of course, considering who she worked for, she should have been used to being manipulated.

“I am no stormtrooper grunt to blindly do as I'm told. Following orders and being lied to are two different things. I do have my honour.” Her bitterness at being sent out on a deceptive mission was palpable.

Perhaps she did deserve an answer. Even if not a complete one.

His mind made up, Ben marshalled the words, his mouth working as he mentally cherry-picked what he wanted to say.

“My father built that engine. And then sold it. That’s about all I know.” His voice was low, and he kept his eyes on her. Ben was prepared for the sweep that came, as she tested the veracity of his words. She would find they were absolutely true.

Searching his eyes, as she probed the surface of his thoughts, she nodded. He could tell she knew there was more, however she would accept this much. It gave her what she needed.

Leaning down, she hovered a hair's breadth from his mouth for a beat, before capturing his lips in a fast, hard kiss.

The flames of his arousal that had banked down to mere coals, during the preceding conversation, roared back to life. Ben brought his hands up to twist into her hair, pulling it out of the updo she had it in, as he kissed her back. She let him for a brief moment, as their tongues warred and danced with each other, before she ripped his hands away from her and slammed them back on either side of this head. Twining her fingers with his, she gripped his hands tightly as she sucked his lower lip, biting at him as she did.

Ben moaned into her mouth, the edge of pain only making the pleasure sweeter. This seemed to please her, making her straddle him again, and urgently grind her hips against his. He could feel her excitement building, the hot coil of blatant need winding around her as she rocked her core against his hardness. Levering herself up, she looked down at him with fevered eyes, panting as she braced herself against his chest. Ben watched as she swiftly divested herself of the tabard and tunic, leaving his eyes running hungrily over the slim form that was revealed, all gentle, long curves with a handful of scars.

He looked up at her, silently asking for permission, before touching her. Ben was nothing if not a fast learner. His fingers skimmed softly over the creamy skin, pausing to brush reverently against each scar, making her catch her breath every time he did. Slowly, he made his way up her torso until his hands rested at the edge of the breast band she had left on. She looked at him, eyes glittering and gone to black, as his fingers slipped under the edge of the fabric, coasting along her skin as he proceeded to unwind it. When the scrap fell away, Ben groaned at the sight of her exposed breasts, flushed, pebbled and begging for his attention.

_They'd fit into his hands like they were made for him._

Squeezing them, not bothering to be gentle about it, Ben flicked his thumbs over her nipples, playing her like he would an instrument. He ached to have his mouth on her.

“Mistress, please… may I?” His voice sounded rusted with disuse. At the sound of it though, she frowned and covered his hands with hers, stilling his ministrations.

“No...not Mistress.” It seemed to trouble her to have him use the honorific she has earned for herself.

Ben waited a beat, before asking gently, “What would you like me to call you?”

She stared at him blankly, before something he could not name warmed her eyes.

“Rey. Call me Rey.”

Ben nodded. Rey. He could do that. His eyes held hers for a long moment, before dropping to where she cradled herself through his hands. “May I, Rey?”

The name must have meant something to her, for his use of it made the blood rush to her face. Closing her eyes, and biting her lip, Rey nodded. She dropped her hands and let him do what he wanted to.

Levering himself up, one hand slipping around to support her back, Ben pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses across her flushed chest. Then, finally, he licked a stripe against her left breast before taking it in his mouth. As she filled the hot, wet cavern, Ben didn't know who groaned louder at the contact. Rey carded her fingers into his hair, clutching him to her, as he worshipped her. Dropping her head back, she moaned as he released her nipple with a wet pop, before lavishing the other with the same attention. She bucked against him, rubbing her ass back against his erection, looking for more. She needed more. She needed to finally know what this felt like.

_What?_

Ben lifted his head from her, his eyes disbelieving as he took in the sight of her - hair tumbling down around her shoulders, her mouth open as she panted, her eyes wanton in their need as he held her in his hands.

“Never?” he whispered, unable to comprehend that this forceful creature who had whipped him up into a frenzy was in fact a virgin.

She shook her head, her mouth closing to tighten, as though expecting judgement. Ben didn't give her a chance, closing the distance between them to take her lips in a soft kiss. He had intended for it to be gentle, reassuring, but the feel of her mouth falling open under his, her tongue licking at him, put his plans to paid. Clutching her fiercely to him, one hand cradling her head, Ben poured himself into the kiss, trying to tell her without words. He wasn't sure what it was he was saying to her, only that he needed her to know it. This was not trivial for him.

Ben drove his hands down, under the waistband of her pants, to grip the globes of her ass. Rey whined into his mouth as he kneaded her, letting his long fingers skirt against the edges of her damp core. Just feeling how wet she was for him was enough to make his cock throb and jerk in response, seeking that moist heaven. It would have to wait, however, while Ben had his hands full with more important matters.

Angling his hands so that he reached under her ass and dipped into her pussy, Ben swirled the tips of his fingers at her entrance, careful not to breach her. Gathering the wetness that dripped there, Ben smeared it along her, anointing the bud at the base of her ass. He did that once, twice, slowly increasing the pressure as the pads of his fingers rimmed both her entrances, making her buck against his hand. The awkward position was making his wrist ache, but the waves of heightening arousal pouring off of Rey kept him going.

Ben levered her up, and repositioned her so that his cock, which was threatening to tear out of his briefs, was pressed up against her front. The new pressure at her apex drew a strangled whine from Rey, morphing into a long moan as he started bucking gently against her. Even through the cloth, he could feel her lips part around him and knew he was hitting her clit with each little jerk. Picking up the pace with his fingers, Ben worked her up furiously, the slick dripping out of her, aiding his efforts. Then, as he felt the flutter at her entrance and the rhythmic clenching of her ass, Ben pushed the tip of his middle finger into her pussy, while pressing his thumb into the other entrance. With a loud wail, Rey orgasmed against him, her body tightening and jerking as she pulled back from his kiss, clutching at his hair to the point of pain.

Ben held Rey as she came down from her high, softly kissing her shoulders and smoothing her back with one hand, while the other still played at her core. She raised her head and stroked a hand down his face, making him turn his head to press a kiss into her palm. Then, gathering her, he twisted and laid her down on the bed, moving to cage her between his arms as he pressed against her center. Rey shuddered and pushed at his hips impatiently, snagging his briefs and pulling at them.

Shushing her, he drew his fingers down her body and, grabbing her pants, pulled them down her legs in one move. Slipping her feet out, he tossed the clothes away haphazardly, before raising up and finally unclothing himself. The sharp breath Rey drew at the sight of his cock bobbing free sent a burst of pride through him. Taking himself in his hand, Ben settled back between her legs and stroked himself in the fresh burst of wetness that dampened her.

“Solo…” she moaned at the contact, her hands clutching at the bedsheets on either side of her. Supporting himself with one hand, Ben leaned over and kissed her hard before rearing back to grin.

“Ben… call me Ben when you're coming on me, Rey.”

“Ben.” she agreed, nodding frantically as he slowly pushed his way into her. Ben knew not to be rough with her, not now. So, in small rocking motions, he tilted his hips to hers, using his mouth on her breasts and sucking kisses at her neck. When he felt her draw a sharp breath and clench around him, Ben paused, waiting for her.

“It's ok, tell me when you want me to move.” he murmured in her ear, nosing at her neck while she got her breathing under control. When he finally felt her slowly rise up against him, Ben moved - slowly drawing out in fractions and pushing his way back inside. Slowly, inchingly, he sheathed his whole length in her wet heat, gritting his teeth as the tightness that threatened to make him come.

When Rey bucked her hips, he hissed, gripping her to halt her movements.

“Do that again and this will be over before it even starts.” Ben ground out, as he fought for control.

Chuckling darkly, Rey instead wrapped her legs around his waist, curling her arms around his back as she pulled herself up to him.

“Maybe I like the idea of you falling.” she bit at his earlobe, and sharply bucked again.

Cursing, Ben slipped to his forearms, pressing down on her. Pulling her arms off him, he raised himself up, and speared her with a dark look.

“You asked for it…”

Gripping her hips, he started thrusting in her, hard. Licking his thumb, he dipped to where they were joined and rubbed against her clit. Ben knew he wouldn't last long, and he needed her to come with him. As he slammed into her, he could see the smile wipe off her face as she started spiraling again. Around him he could feel her tightening even more, and he sped up, clutching at the last scraps of control. When the crimson tendrils of her energy shot out to twine along him, however, coaxing his own energies to come out and play, and she clutched at him with a ragged breath, panting his name, Ben couldn't hold on any longer.

His vision whited out with how hard he came, pulsing deep inside her as she fell apart under him. Catching himself before he collapsed on her, Ben lowered his head to her shoulder, shuddering with the strength of his release. As he slowly came back to himself, it was to Rey kissing his neck, butterfly kisses that she peppered whenever she could reach, her hands stroking over his back and his ass, pausing to palm him.

Rolling to his back, Ben brought her over to rest on top of him, still joined, uncaring about the combined mess they were making. He wasn't ready to let go just yet.

Raising her head, Rey looked at him, breathing hard and the expression on her face unreadable. As Ben's heart rate slowed, he felt it hitch when she laid her head down on his chest, her arms still wrapped around him. They stayed that way, Ben holding her to him, until their breathing evened out and they slipped into sleep.

When Ben next opened his eyes it was to see Rey sitting on the edge of bed, her wraps in her hands. Rolling over and sitting up behind her, Ben hesitated before reaching out and stroking his hand down her bare back. She shivered, but didn't turn.

“I have to go.” she said, baldly, softly.

Ben realized he didn't have anything to say to that. Of course she did. It wasn't as though he expected she would suddenly fly off into the sunset with him. That's not how these things worked.

_Then why did it feel like that's how it should be? Why could he feel her misery?_

Rey must have read something off him, he didn't even realize he was broadcasting, and she turned quickly to him.

“You're not...I can feel you without that. And I know you can feel me as well.”

She reached for his hand, her demeanor very different from when this night had started. Ben nodded.

“Ben, I can't stay. I…” she broke off and looked away.

He covered her hand with his, and bent to her, “I know.”

For a brief moment Rey rested her head against his shoulder, letting him press a kiss to her hair. Then she was up and off the bed, swiftly dressing.

Ben watched as she fastened her tabard with quick fingers, and picked up her saber staff, hefting it in her hands. Rey pulled a small piece of tech from it before hooking the hilt to her belt.

Crossing to him, she held it out on her palm, waiting for him to take it, her uncertainty and hesitation clear.

Ben looked at it and then searched her eyes. He knew a miniaturised binary beacon when he saw one.

“Why?” He asked, softly, an echo of a question he'd asked what seemed like a very long time ago.

“This is not First Order tech. I… I made this. Only I can locate it again,” she looked up at him, “locate you again.”

“Snoke…”

Rey made a slashing motion, stopping him, agitation pouring off her, “Not Snoke. Me.”

Ben considered what was in front of him - the smart choice would be to reject it. Even if it meant rejecting her.

Ben Solo was not always smart. He curled his hand over hers, palming the beacon as he did, and tugged her close.

“Mistress of the Knights of Ren…” he murmured in her ear, “Rey...May the Force be with you.” The ancient benediction rolling off his tongue seemed very appropriate just then.

Her eyes tightly shut, Rey nodded, the Darksider accepting the Jedi blessing. And then, she was gone.

Till he saw her again.

Ben considered the beacon in his hand, warming in his palm, and smiled.

He would see her again.

  


***

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Big love to 
> 
>  
> 
> [monsterleadmehome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterleadmehome/pseuds/monsterleadmehome) and  
> [azuwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azuwrite/pseuds/azuwrite) for the beta edits,
> 
>  
> 
> [JustAnotherSailorScout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherSailorScout/pseuds/JustAnotherSailorScout) for being a great soundboard!


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